


Fill The Silence

by marimoes



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Broodmothers (Dragon Age), Deep Roads (Dragon Age), F/M, Mention of planned suicide, Orzammar (Dragon Age), Pre-Relationship, The Calling (Dragon Age), barely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28159260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marimoes/pseuds/marimoes
Summary: “I don’t have anything to say,” Magnolia replies, drawing a finger around the rim. It makes a broken note and she sighs. “Do you? After all that?”The warrior’s hands clamp tighter around his own mug and he hangs his head. What they saw in the deep roads would haunt anyone, but to be a grey warden and know that is where your fate is to end? It’s sickening. The thought alone when mentioned is one thing, but to experience it is something else entirely.Especially for the women. Now, especially, for Magnolia.
Relationships: Alistair/Female Cousland (Dragon Age), Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Fill The Silence

“You’ve been quiet.” 

Magnolia looks up from her mug to find Alistair settling down across from her at the table. His tone isn’t worried but his eyes are. She’s starting to learn they’re a dead giveaway regarding how he feels. Perusing this man like the open book he left dropped on the ground at her feet. Unfortunately, by reading it, he’s learning about her just as much. 

“I don’t have anything to say,” Magnolia replies, drawing a finger around the rim. It makes a broken note and she sighs. “Do you? After all that?” 

The warrior’s hands clamp tighter around his own mug and he hangs his head. What they saw in the deep roads would haunt anyone, but to be a grey warden and know that is where your fate is to end? It’s sickening. The thought alone when mentioned is one thing, but to experience it is something else entirely. 

Especially for the women. Now, especially, for Magnolia. 

“You aren’t going to turn into that,” Alistair assures, reaching hesitantly across the table. “I won’t let it happen.” 

A cold laugh leaves Magnolia’s lips. “You’re right. I won’t let it. When my calling comes I need to kill myself. I will forgo the duty and the honor and the sacrifice in that final moment. A last shred of selfishness for myself before I leave. It’s fair, I think. More than it.” 

Alistair breathes out a slow, deep breath, curling his hand around nothing before gently knocking the table between them. “It doesn’t get any easier to hear that. Especially when you say that with so much confidence.” 

“What? That I’ll kill myself?” Magnolia presses, eyes searching his face for something, “What would you prefer then, Alistair? Me shoving a blade through my heart or potentially becoming one of those—things! My options were taken away from me when I joined. The last choice for the choice-less. Well, I still want choices and I’m going to take them.” 

“I—” Alistair starts to respond but the words drop from his mouth. “I don’t blame you. I know joining wasn’t really a choice for you, and I’m sorry, but I can’t say I’m not glad that a piece of tragedy brought you to me.” 

She shakes her head, teeth gritted in a bitter mix of frustration and agreement. The rest of the alcohol in her mug is downed, filling her ear with a different sound than it usually does. When she finishes, she heavily places the mug on the table while getting up to stand. She wants to stay but everything in her body is telling her to move. 

Smoothing her shirt, she fidgets with the edge, trying to tuck it back correctly. When it doesn’t go, she tears all the fabric out from the band, undoing it all in favor of leaving. 

“Mags!” Alistair calls, pushing up and shaking the table with his hip pressing against it to follow her. “ _Maggie_.” 

She turns back to look at him, something bright like a flame in her eye, but it’s a warning. “I’ll meet you back at our arrangements, alright? Enjoy Orzammar. You can’t if you’re with me right now.” 

“I don’t often tell you you’re wrong,” Alistair argues, softly, hand extending forward curled with a question, “but you’re wrong. I’ll be miserable thinking about if you’re ok. So just let me stay with you. I won’t say anything if you need silence and I’ll ramble about anything you want if you can’t take the quiet. Just let me help how I can. I’ll do it.” 

A hand brushes back through her hair, scratching irritatedly at her scalp. The sorrow in his voice. It’s dancing too close to a tone she never wants to hear from him again. From anyone if she can help it. 

“I don’t need your pity, Alistair. I know you’re glad you can’t become one of those, I don’t need you looking down on me because I can. Poor, tragic, little Magnolia Cousland,” She sighs, free hand out into the air, fear striking her heart with every word. She doesn’t believe what she’s saying. She just has to say it to get it out of her head, and unfortunately Alistair is her sounding board. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s alright. I’m not pitying you, Maggie.” Taking her hand in his, he pulls her to face him. Magnolia often focuses too singularly, too much. He’s learned that to get through to her you have to do the same. “I’m trying to be there for you… as your best friend.” 

She presses her lips into a tight line of argument, humming a groan behind them before relenting. Dropping her head, she walks forward into him, burying herself into his chest. Sweat and blood scented, but still Alistair. 

“Fine. So, I thought about looking at the markets. Maybe you can tell me stories?” She asks, low, uncertain as she looks outside the bar back to the street. “Fill the silence?” 

A grin pulls on Alistair's lips and he nods, turning them towards the entrance with an arm around her shoulder. The roar of the bar and markets is nothing to her ears. Nothing around them could compare to what Alistair is about to say.

“Of course. So… did I ever tell you about the time that I got Eamon a sex toy for his birthday thinking that it was a cool statue a traveling seller had?” He asks, grin boyish and crooked on his face as they step into the street. "The trouble I was in. I'm sure you'll laugh." 

“Maybe,” Magnolia replies, looking up at him with a wrinkled nose and softened eyes, “I’d love to hear it.” 

**Author's Note:**

> It's so fucked up that female wardens have a chance of becoming broodmothers should they fail to die during their calling. It's so awful. Then they wonder why not as many women join. Wonder Why. 
> 
> Twitter: @fondofthehowes


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